Welcome to the Madhouse
by Blackheart214
Summary: Jack Austin, a retired marine, has seen more than his fair share of horrors in war; enough to make him callous to insanity and terror that plagues Gotham. When he is hired as a guard at Arkham, however, he will find himself facing absolute madness untold.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note****~ I've been wanting to write an Arkham Asylum fanfic for sometime now, but trying to come up with a plot as incredible as the one in the game was a lot harder than I thought. My original plan was a plot that followed the story of an inmate of my creation, but honestly, coming up with super villain as unique as the ones in the Batman universe was something I knew was beyond my skills so I scrapped it.**

**Well, I won't waste anymore of your time. On with the story!**

**DISCLAIMER~ Batman Arkham Asylum is the property of DC Comics and Rocksteady Studios. I own my OC, Jack Austin.**

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An alarm clock went off in a small one-bedroom apartment In Gotham City. A hand slammed down on the obnoxious device's snooze button, silencing it. The owner of the hand groaned as he lifted his head up from his pillow to check the time.

"Five a.m." he groaned.

He would kill for a couple more hours of sleep, but the day shift at Arkham started in an hour. It was his first day and showing up late would not make for a very good first impression. With another groan he sat up and swung his legs off the bed.

He took a minute to look at a photo that sat on his nightstand beside his alarm clock. The picture showed a little girl about three years old waving at the camera while she had her arm wrapped around a teddy bear. The man let out a solemn sigh and ran a hand through his short, dark brown hair that was starting to gray. Deciding to get ready for work, he finally hefted himself off of his bed.

He stretched his well-muscled body before grabbing a set of dumbbells from under his bed and did a few reps. Once he finished his morning workout, he took a quick shower. Once he was dry, he threw on some jeans and a t-shirt and headed into the kitchen to make some toast and egg whites for breakfast. While the food cooked, he turned on the TV in the living room. He ate his breakfast to the sound of the news in the background. He zoned in and out to the newscasters going on about crime in the city and a few sightings of the mysterious and elusive Batman. Once he finished breakfast, he returned to his room to throw on his boots and grab his wallet and car keys. He took one last look at the picture of the little girl on his night stand before heading into the living room to turn off the TV and then head out the door.

Outside sat a black 4x4 truck. The man unlocked it and stepped into the driver's seat. After starting up the truck, he checked his rearview mirror and noticed that he forgot shave the stubble on his face. He groaned; it was too late to go back inside. His shift started in less than twenty minutes so without further delay, he pulled away from the sidewalk and drove down the street. He left the radio off, preferring to enjoy a quiet drive to the asylum. The ride gave him time to think as he recalled the day before when he had been interviewed for a position at the asylum.

_He hadn't known what to expect when he walked into the mansion on Arkham Island. The Island had an ominous feeling to it on the outside and the Arkham Mansion did little to shake the feeling. The place felt more like a haunted castle with its old interior design and the random gargoyles that lined the walls. He couldn't understand why they hadn't tried to make the place a little more…welcoming._

_The guard that was escorting him through the mansion said little the entire time, not that he himself was one for conversation anyway. Finally, they came to a room at the end of a hall. The guard opened the door for him and then left. Inside sat a woman behind a desk; a secretary no doubt._

"_Can I help you?" she asked._

"_I'm here for an interview," he said simply. She nodded and then began typing on her computer._

"_Name please?"_

"_Jack Austin," he answered._

"_Oh yes," she said when she found his name on the computer. "The warden has been waiting for you." She then pressed a button on the intercom beside her. "Warden Sharp, Jack Austin is here to see you."_

"_Good. Send him in," came the English accented voice of an older man._

_The secretary got up from behind her desk and led the man through an archway that led to a much larger room. Jack looked around in wonder at the so called "office"; he didn't understand why they didn't call it a throne room. He followed the secretary up to the warden's desk and took a good look at the man running the show. He didn't seem like much at all really. Jack had imagined that the warden of such a crazy place would have been a little more…more._

"_Thank you, Jessica, you can leave us," he said to his secretary who promptly left the two men alone to return to her work._

_Nice to meet you, Mr. Austin. I am Warden Quincy Sharp," the old man said as he stood to shook Jack's hand._

"_Nice to meet you, Warden," Jack said, returning the handshake._

"_Please, have a seat," Sharp said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. Jack did so as Sharp looked over his resume'. "I must admit, Mr. Austin, after reading your resume', I am surprised that you want to work here. A man with your skills could do wonders for the Gotham Police Department."_

"_I'd figured with Batman out there, The Gotham P.D. didn't need much help," Jack responded._

"_Oh, of course," the Warden said with a dismissive hand. "It says here you spent some time over seas recently."_

"_I got back from my tour over a year ago."_

"_Hmm… thirteen years as a member of the United States Marine Corps., numerous awards for bravery and distinguished service, and a Medal of Honor," Sharp read. "Quite impressive, Mr. Austin."_

"_Thank you," Jack said with a small smile._

"_May I ask what your rank was before your honorable discharge?" Sharp asked curiously._

"_I was a Sergeant."_

"_Indeed… well Mr. Austin, I am convinced or rather I've been convinced," Sharp said with a smile._

_I'm sorry?" Jack asked with a confused look._

"_Truthfully, I had planned to hire you before you even got here. All it took was one look at your resume'. Arkham needs a man like you, especially now during my mayoral campaign. The quality of the staff reflects the quality of the warden and if you can keep these animals under control, it will no doubt show the people of Gotham that I am more than capable of running this city. So, shall I see you here tomorrow for your first shift?"_

"_Yes you will, sir," Jack said with a nod._

_Both men stood and shook hands._

"_Welcome to Arkham Asylum, Mr. Austin."_

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**I know it's not much, but I suck at introductions. This story will get much better as it goes on, I promise.**

**R&R please, thank you.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note~ I'm sorry that this took so long to update. I had some computer problems earlier this year, school kept me busy, and I have several other stories to update, along with working on my original work. I'm hoping I can get this story finished before Arkham City comes out in October.**

**DISCLAIMER~ Batman Arkham Asylum is the property of Rocksteady Studios. I own nothing, but my OC, Jack Austin.**

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Frank Boles was not a happy man. He had heard from two other guards that Sharp had hired some new former "super marine" as a guard at _his _asylum. He understood right away that this new guy could be a threat to him; _he_ was the best guard at Arkham damn it! He would not let this new guy come in and just take what was rightfully his. He stormed to the guard's locker room in the Intensive Treatment building to get a good look at this man.

When he got there, he was hardly impressed.

This new "super marine" as the other guards had put it, was just some thirty or forty something year old war dog. To think he had been worried for even a second. He watched as the man finished lacing up his boots before speaking.

"So you're the new guy, huh?" he asked getting the man's attention.

"Yeah, that's me." The man stood and offered his hand to Frank. "Jack Austin." The two shared a hearty handshake.

"Frank Boles. Nice to meet ya. Heard you served," Frank said.

"Thirteen years in the Marine Corps.," Jack replied with a nod.

"Well this ain't the Marines, soldier, this is Arkham. You think the Corps prepared you for this?"

"I guess we'll find out," Jack said as he closed his locker.

"Well look, we all started out from the bottom. I started out as just another guard, but now I'm next in line to be head of security," Boles stated. He was testing Jack; making sure he wouldn't be a problem for him later.

"I'll do whatever the Warden tells me to," Jack responded.

"Boles, you in here?" came a deep voice.

Both men turned to see a dark male enter the locker room. He wore a uniform that was different and much simpler than Jack's or Frank's.

"What do you want Cash?" Frank asked.

"Warden wants you in the Intensive Treatment Lobby. The G.C.P.D. is bringing in some new scumbag."

"Fine, whatever," Frank said with a roll of his eyes as he left the room.

"You the new man?" Cash asked holding out his hand. "Aaron Cash."

"Jack Austin," Jack stated returning the gesture. Jack also noticed out of the corner of his eye that this man, Aaron Cash, had a prosthetic hook instead of a left hand.

"Welcome to Arkham, soldier," Cash said in a friendly tone. "Warden told me to give you a tour of the island. If you're going to work in this shit hole you gotta be familiar with it."

"Lead on then," Jack said with a friendly smile.

Cash led Jack out of the locker room, through the Utility Corridor and into the Intensive Treatment lobby.

"I'm sure you can guess what all this is for," Cash stated.

"Processing," Jack replied. Cash nodded in the affirmative.

"Garbage comes in through there," Cash said, pointing to elevator lift that led to the building entrance, "we check em' for weapons or any other nasty things in there," he continued while pointing to the large metal detector that held a room with a few offices over it.

"Is it effective?" Jack asked curiously.

"We had some guy try to hide a knife in his arm a while back, but this thing kept him from getting far," Cash stated.

"Impressive," Jack said with a nod.

Cash continued on through a large metal door behind the metal detector. The door led to a long hallway. On their right was an observational room and Jack saw a similar one further along down the hall. On their left was an identical hallway that was barred off.

"This is Cell Block Transfer," Cash stated as he walked up the stairs into the observation room. "This is where I work most of the time."

Jack looked around the room, and took note of all the equipment and security monitors. What caught his eye was a family photo sitting on the desk.

"This your family?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's my wife and boy," Cash said with a happy smile and light laugh. "My little man's gonna be eight next month," he mused.

"You got a beautiful family," Jack commented.

"How bought you, Austin? You got family?" Cash inquired curiously.

"Sort of," Jack said as pulled out his wallet. "This is my little girl, Katie," he said, handing Cash a small photo he retrieved from his wallet. The photo showed a little girl with shoulder length brown hair wearing a white sundress, holding a stuffed bunny and smiling at the camera.

"Almost as cute as mine," Cash said with mirth. Jack chuckled as he took the picture back.

"No wife?" Cash asked. Jack sighed before answering.

"My wife and I divorced a little over a year ago."

"Oh…er, sorry I asked," Cash apologized.

"Don't worry about it."

They stood in awkward silence for a few seconds before Cash decided to move on.

"Anyway, let me show you the rest of the building."

"Alright," Jack said with a shrug as he followed Cash out of the room and further down the hallway.

Cash gave Jack a tour of the lower levels. He showed him the holding cells, patient pacification, and patient decontamination while giving him a run down of each room's purpose. Jack saw the infamous Riddler for the first time up close in the holding cells and watched one of the Arkham patients receive shock therapy in the Pacification Chamber. He was told of the level below the lower level, where Killer Croc was kept, but Cash said he wouldn't go down there unless ordered and advised Jack to do the same.

With the Intensive Treatment building tour finished, Cash led Jack out onto the Arkham grounds. He pointed out the guard towers and stations and mentioned to Jack that the grounds were where he may also be asked to work. He led Jack towards Arkham West and to the Penitentiary.

"This is where we keep the trash," Cash joked as they walked into the building. "It's also place where you'll be spending most of your time. You'll be bringing patients from here to Intensive Treatment and the Medical Building and back again."

"Doesn't sound so bad," Jack said with a shrug.

"You'll change your mind when you see these animals," Cash warned.

The two men walked through the front lobby and into a hallway. They stopped before a large metal door. A personnel scanner above the door's metal frame shined a light on both men as it scanned their faces and bodies. Once the scan was complete, the metal clasps on the door open and slid to the side with door following soon after.

What Jack saw inside the next room churned his stomach just a bit.

Men were packed into cells every way he looked. They each wore a straightjacket; some had managed to rip the sleeves off their uniforms and other had managed to shed them completely allowing them to scurry about their cells like caged monkeys. Many of them wore strange devices on their heads that were meant to keep them from biting or blinking. They were all shrieking and shouting incoherent nonsense. One or two had caught sight of Jack and began reaching for them with filthy clawed hands.

"You guys running an asylum or zoo?" Jack asked.

Cash chuckled dryly.

"I like to call it the "Devil's waiting room"," he quipped. "Each and every one of these demons has lost their minds and are extremely dangerous. If you slip up, they will do things to you that are too terrible to mention."

"You have any countermeasures in case they get out of their cages?" Jack asked curiously.

Cash pointed downward and Jack did as instructed. Beneath the thick glass floor beneath them were hundreds of dynamos that covered the entire expanse of the room.

"You guys really do leave nothing to chance," Jack commented.

"If too many of these guys get out, we clear the guards and light this place up," Cash explained. "These bastards are burnt meat in a matter of seconds once the switch is pulled."

"Anyone important kept here?" Jack said as Cash led him further into the building, making sure to stay clear of the grabbing hands of the patients.

"Oh, I think you might know a few," Cash said. "We keep "Poison Ivy" in her own little containment cell. Any man gets near her, I don't care how much you say you love your woman; you can't resist her."

"Good thing I'm divorced," Jack joked.

"We have a special cell reserved for "Clayface"," Cash continued. "You're a new guy so he might try to trick you into letting him out, but I don't care if he transforms into almighty God himself, you ignore him and keep him locked. Are we clear?"

"Got it."

"We also have the pleasure of housing what was once Harvey Dent here," Cash added with a hint of sadness in his voice.

Jack understood. Harvey Dent was once a grand symbol in justice in Gotham. Now he was a complete antithesis of his former self. A cruel reminder that even someone so noble could fall to darkness.

"Mr. Freeze is further in, but he usually keeps to himself. Just don't get too close, just to be safe," Cash warned.

Jack nodded and followed Cash further into the Penitentiary. Cash gave him quick layouts of the floors and rooms and basic security protocols for the building. It didn't seem like anything Jack couldn't handle though.

Once the tour of the building was complete, Cash led Jack back outside onto the grounds of Arkham West.

"Well, all that's left is the medical building. I'd give you a tour, but you'll be heading there anyway for a mandatory checkup." Cash said.

"What about the mansion and the large building next to it?" Jack asked curiously.

"The mansion isn't really a major concern for you. It's where some of the higher paid doctor's offices are kept along with the warden's. Mostly it's just patient records and archives," Cash explained. "The other building is the Botanical Gardens. That's mostly for the scientists; I doubt you'll spend any time in there at all."

"Good to know. Thanks, Cash," Jack said offering his hand to Cash who shook it happily.

"When you're done, head to the warden's office for your schedule. If you need anything just come find me in Intensive Treatment. Nice having you here Austin," Cash said before heading back to Arkham North.

Jack looked towards the Medical building. Even the hospital on the island looked ominous even in broad daylight. Jack had yet to see the Asylum at night. He could only imagine how much more frightening it would seem then.

In Jack's professional opinion, the island was definitely well fortified and supplied. The only problem he had was that if a riot ever broke out and the asylum went on lockdown, the island could become as much a prison for the people working on it as it is for the inmates. Then again, he had heard that the asylum was nearly a century old; if it managed to last this long, then he couldn't see much reason to worry.

After walking into the medical building, Jack made his way to the receptionist.

"I'm Jack Austin, the new guard. I'm here for a check-up," he stated tersely.

The receptionist looked up from her computer screen, gave Jack a onceover and nodded.

"You may take a seat right over there until the doctor gets here," she said while gesturing to a bench against the wall behind Jack.

While Jack waited, the receptionist spoke into a microphone at her desk and asked for a Dr. Cassidy to come to the front desk.

Jack half expected some bug-eyed old man with wild white hair to answer the call. He figured the "mad doctor" look would fit a place like Arkham. The last thing he expected was a woman in her late twenties or early thirties with auburn hair tied tightly into a ponytail come to meet him.

"Are you Mr. Austin?" she asked politely, holding her clipboard close to her chest.

"I am," he said as he stood. "Are you Dr. Cassidy?"

"Yes. Please come with me."

She led Jack down the hallway to the right and through the doors at the end. Jack saw the sign near the door that read _"Sanitarium"_.

The Sanitarium was a large room made up of two floors. Jack could see several offices and work areas on the floor he was on and a few more on the floor below over the railing. He was brought to an office off to the right, right next to the doors to the Sanitarium. Dr. Cassidy closed the curtain as to give them some privacy.

"If you don't mind me asking, doctor: shouldn't I have been given a physical before my first day of work?" Jack asked curiously.

"Normally, yes that would be the case," she said as she placed a stethoscope around her neck, "but the warden seemed to be pretty adamant on your employment. This is only a formality now."

"I see."

"You have quite an impressive medical record, Mr. Austin," Dr. Cassidy said as she looked over his medical records on her clipboard. "You've suffered several injuries that would have left most men crippled or maimed for life. Yet it seems that you're still in top shape."

"When a man spends thirteen years in the Marines, he doesn't allow himself to sit around and get fat, doctor," he joked.

Dr. Cassidy allowed a small smile to grace her lips before getting started.

She grabbed Jack's wrist and looked at her watch to check his pulse. Next she wrapped a pressure cuff around his bicep and squeezed the bulb until it was wrapped tightly around it. Once she was satisfied, she removed the device from his bicep.

"Alright, now could you please remove your shirt, Mr. Austin?" she asked politely.

Jack hesitated at first- not that he was embarrassed- but complied and removed his guard vest and shirt.

Dr. Cassidy's eyes widened slightly at what she saw. It wasn't Jack Austin physique she took notice- well, okay that wasn't true- it was the numerous scars that marred his body. She recognized slash marks from blades or shrapnel, bullet wounds, and a few minor burns. Jack noticed her staring.

"That another about spending thirteen years in the Marines: you never walk away without a few scars," he said.

Dr. Cassidy snapped out of her reverie and grabbed the chest piece from her stethoscope and placed on Jack's chest. Several times she asked him to take deep breaths as she moved the chest piece across his torso, doing her best not to get distracted by the slow rise and fall of his chest.

When she was done, she removed her stethoscope and gave Jack the okay to put his shirt and vest back on.

"Well, Mr. Austin, all that's left is a urine sample," she stated handing him a small cup. "There's a restroom down the hall near the receptionist's desk."

Jack nodded and took the plastic cup from Dr. Cassidy. He left the office and headed for the restroom. Within ten minutes he was back with a filled plastic cup.

"I can't lie, this is uncomfortable," Jack said as he handed Dr. Cassidy the cup.

"It is for most men," she said with a light laugh.

"Is that everything?"

"That's about it, though again: it's just a formality," she said with a nod.

"Thank you. I suppose I'll be seeing you around?"

"If you can last long enough; this place can drive even the bravest men away."

"I guess we'll see, doctor."

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**"Well, Jack's met the staff of Arkham**.

**I plan on making him and Aaron friends, but you probably already noticed that.**

**Boles already feels threatened. I'm going to have fun writing out the dynamics between those two.**

**About what happened between Jack and Dr. Cassidy: her reactions to him were purely physical and normal female reactions(at least I hope so!)**

**Until next time!  
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	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note****: Well it's been a while since I updated this story. I stepped away from it give the plot some more thought and after a lot of thinking and playing Arkham Asylum and Arkham City twice, including all the AC DLC, I think I have an idea of where I want this story and- though I promise nothing- the sequel to go. I can't say when the next update will be because mostly, the stories I update are chosen by the flip of coin, and I'm writing three other stories at the same time. So there's a one in four chance that of this story being the next one I update.**

**DISLCAIMER~ Batman: Arkham Asylum is the property of Rocksteady and Warner Bros...I think, I don't really pay attention to that crap.**

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It had been almost a full week since Jack began working at Arkham and so far, he had encountered no problems. His job mostly just required him to escort dangerous prisoners around the island, oversee processing of dangerous arrivals to Arkham, and only twice having to oversee interviews between the doctors and the inmates, a couple of the famous ones like the Riddler and Two-Face. So far, it was a lot easier than working the field in hostile territories all over the globe.

He had also developed a good rapport with some of the faculty, he had even been invited to a poker game hosted by Boles, but he politely declined, particularly because there was something about Frank that Jack didn't quite like; a bad first impression perhaps. The man just seemed too full of himself. He and Cash had bonded pretty quickly. The two often ate lunch together, had friendly conversations over coffee, and had once even shared a bull session over drinks at a local bar after punching out.

He checked the time on the clock in the guard break room in the Penitentiary, it read quarter of eleven. He still had another fifteen minutes before he resumed his work day. That was plenty of time to finish his sub and second cup of coffee. Working the night shift at Arkham was not easy; he needed to be alert one hundred percent of the time or else the inmates would tear him apart if he wasn't paying attention. That was especially true in regards to his next job: overseeing the patient interview with Waylon Jones, a.k.a. "Killer Croc". Jack had yet to actually see Croc up close since he came to Arkham, but he knew that when he did, he needed to be prepared. He tossed the wrap from his sub and the empty coffee cup into the trash and headed for Intensive Treatment building.

He hurried through processing and made his way to Cell Block Transfer. He found Cash waiting for him outside his usual station.

"I was worried you might be too afraid to show," Cash said mirthfully.

"I don't scare easily," Jack said with a smug smirk.

"Let's see how well you keep up that attitude," Cash said as he walked with Jack to the elevator. There they met up with six other Arkham guards. Each of them loaded up into the elevator and began their descent to Killer Croc's lair.

"Alright everyone," Cash addressed everyone in the elevator, "you all know the drill. Keep your weapons trained on Croc. Do not get distracted, people! If anyone of you dies, the warden will have our asses for ruining his image. Nobody die today, I do not feel like putting up with that bull crap!"

Jack almost laughed. He remembered getting speeches like this from his superiors many times before a mission. Nothing like a military pep talk to get you all pumped up.

The elevator came to a stop once it hit the ground floor. The guards loaded out of the elevator and made their way to the nearest weapons cache mounted on the walls. Jack grabbed the assault rifle and did his routine weapons check that he had practiced for over a decade: check the sights, the ammunition, the safety, and the weight. It was pretty low-tech compared to some of the weapons he had handled during his career, but he supposed it would have to do. He wished he still had his trusty M4 assault rifle at his side; that weapon had saved his ass more than once in the sand.

"You look like you know what you're doing."

Jack stopped his examination and looked up to see who had spoken to him. He recognized the guard from some of his rounds in Intensive Treatment, but had never really interacted with him before.

"A few years in the service and you know these things like the back of your hand," Jack replied.

"Eddie Burlow," the man greeted extending his hand.

"Jack Austin," Jack greeted back as he shook Eddie's hand.

"You think you're ready for Croc?" Eddie asked nodding his head to the large metal door at the corner of the room

"We'll find out in a few minutes. What about you?"

"I've never been this close before. Hope I don't crap my pants," Eddie said with a somewhat nervous laugh.

"I'm sure you'll do fine. There are eight of us here; we can handle this."

"Yeah, sure," Eddie responded with a dry laugh. "We'll see if you still think that thirty seconds from now."

In the observation room above them, Jack spotted Dr. Gretchen Whistler. He had only accompanied her during an interview one other time, but that was all it took for him to realize that he had better not get on her bad side. The woman was one of the more prolific doctors at Arkham and based on what he heard from the rest of the staff, she took her job very seriously with a raw determination to cure any psycho sent to her.

"Okay, people, he's coming out!" Cash announced. "Weapons ready!"

The guards all pointed their weapons at the large bulkhead-like door. One of them pulled the handle that opened and quickly backed away. From behind the door, Jack could hear growling and the ground shook beneath his boots. He hadn't been told the true size of Waylon Jones having yet to read his patient file, but Jack was guessing that whatever could make the ground shake this much had to be at least eight feet tall and weigh several hundred pounds.

The first thing he saw was a large, scaly green hand grip the doorframe. He was totally unprepared for the giant hulking frame that came afterwards. His initial guess to Croc's height was totally off; the monster stood at eleven feet tall and was no doubt more than five hundred pounds of pure muscle covered by thick green scales. The most frightening things were the two rows of jagged razor sharp teeth that jutted out the creature's mouth. Wrapped around its neck was large metal collar with a short chain dangling from it along with two pairs of steel cuffs on its legs and arms.

'_Freak on a leash!' _Jack thought to himself. _'This thing's supposed to be human?'_

Killer Croc stood tall before the guards and glared down at each of them. He then sniffed the air for a couple of seconds before his yellow eyes fell on Jack.

"New meat!" he growled with what Jack suspected was a grin. "Nice of you to bring me a snack, Cash!"

"Shut up, freak!" Aaron shouted. Croc only cackled.

"I got your scent now, meat!" Croc said with a sadistic glee. "Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-to-arrrgghhh!" Croc roared in pain as the collar around his neck suddenly sparked to life and sent large amounts of volts through his massive body. Jack looked to see Aaron holding a device in his hand with his thumb pressed down on a red button.

"I told you to shut up!" Cash shouted as he released the button.

"That is enough, Mr. Cash!" Dr. Whistler said firmly as she came out of the observation room flanked by two armed guards. "Please forgive us, Mr. Jones," she began politely. "How are you feeling today?"

"Hungry!" Croc growled. "Why don't we cut this short and you get me some dinner, bitch!"

"I'm afraid we can't do that, Mr. Jones; you know how this must go," Gretchen said calmly.

"I said I'm hungry!" Croc roared as began stomping his way in Gretchen's direction only to be shocked by Cash once more.

"This is a waste of time, Doc! Let's just throw him back in his hole!" Cash said.

"We cannot, Mr. Cash. That is not why we are here," Whistler said adamantly before turning her attention back to Croc. "I thought we might talk about your aunt today, Mr. Jones."

"What about her?" Croc demanded angrily.

"She was abusive was she not? She denied you the support you needed as a child with such a terrible condition. Instead she treated you poorly and ridiculed you, correct?"

"So?" Croc asked with increasing agitation.

"Does it not bother you?"

"You think I give a shit about that bitch?" Croc snarled. "She's just food to me, just like the rest of ya!"

"You cannot possibly think that," Gretchen tried.

"If she were here right now, I'd chew on her flesh and guts and used her aging bones for toothpicks!"

"I understand you are angry with her, Mr. Jones, and you have every reason to be, but those thoughts will only destroy you in the end; they will make you less human."

"Are you listening to me, bitch?" Croc roared as he took one dangerous step forward, making every guard in the room train their sights on him. "I'll devour you!"

Aaron wasted no time in pressing the button on the device in his hand, sending humanly fatal volts of electricity through Croc's body.

"This is pointless, Dr. Whistler," Cash stated.

Gretchen sighed in disappointment. "I'm inclined to agree, Mr. Cash. You may go back to your 'cell', Mr. Jones," she said before heading for the elevator.

The massive mutant only growled in response before being corralled back into his cell. One of the guards activated the device that carried giant pieces of what Jack presumed- and hoped- was cow meat into Croc's cell.

Jack made his way to the weapons locker and set the assault rifle back on the rack. Cash came up next and set his rifle down as well.

"I gotta tell ya Austin: I don't know why we bother with that animal," Cash said with an annoyed sigh.

"If the doctors don't cure him then there out of work," Jack replied sardonically.

Cash let out a light chuckle before walking back to the elevator with Jack.

"Seriously though, we should just leave that thing down here to rot," Cash stated as he activated the elevator.

"Why don't you just give him the chair…a really big chair?" Jack asked curiously.

"For one: the warden wants to prove to the voters that this hellhole can cure these sickos," Cash said with a dry laugh. "And two: these doctors firmly believe that he's insane and the law says we can't execute a crazy person."

"Sometimes people are just beyond saving," Jack said with a shrug.

"No doubt about that," Cash said in agreement as they walked into the elevator.

"So is he like…human?" the new guard asked curiously as the elevator began its ascension.

"Only in a legal sense," the senior security guard replied. "He's got one of those rare medical conditions with the long ass names. Basically, it makes him more like a crocodile."

"Is that even possible?"

"Only in Gotham."

When the elevator came to a stop at the top floor, Aaron and Jack headed back for Intensive Treatment. Jack's radio suddenly went off.

"This is Officer Smith. Austin do you read me?" came the voice of Henry Smith, one of the guards assigned to the Intensive Treatment facility. Jack pressed the button on the side of his radio to respond.

"This is Austin. Go ahead."

"We need your help for an interview in Intensive Treatment," Smith responded.

"Who's the patient?"

"It's Zsasz."

"Dammit," Jack muttered causing Aaron to snicker. Jack hated dealing with Zsasz. It seemed no matter how many knives he took from the psychopath, he always had another one stashed away somewhere. Out of all the inmates Jack had to put up with in the last week, Zsasz was the one he saw most, just about every day for transport and drop offs, but he had yet to spend an extended period of time in the same room with psycho.

"10-4, I'm on it," he said reluctantly.

"Roger. Over and out," Smith said before the line went dead.

"Just my luck," Jack groaned.

"Have fun, Jack," Cash said with a laugh before walking away.

"You're an asshole, Aaron," Jack said mirthfully.

"Drinks after work?" Aaron asked.

"Why not?" Jack said before heading on towards the processing lobby.

When he reached the lobby, he spotted Zsasz strapped to an upright stretcher flanked by Officer Smith, and to his mild surprise, Frank Boles.

"You call someone else, Smith?" he asked in confusion.

"No, _I_ had him call you," Frank stated.

"You need three guards to transport one detained prisoner?" Jack asked with a raised brow.

"Call it a test," Frank said with a small smirk. "I wanna see how you work under pressure with one of these sickos in the room."

"I've been here a week, Boles. I think I can handle myself."

"Just do me this little favor, Austin," Frank urged. "If I'm gonna be head of security, I need to know which guards I can trust to do their jobs right around here."

Jack knew without a shred of doubt that there was more to it than what Frank was giving him. Maybe it was his initial distrust of the man, but something told him that Boles was trying to hint at whom the Alpha Dog was at Arkham and he wanted to know if Jack would fold and fall in line. Fortunately for Boles, Jack had no need for a petty title and was just there to do a job.

"Alright, Boles, I'll join you," he said civilly.

"Great, now help Smith carry the freak," he ordered.

'_I guess he thought I meant "Okay Frank, I'll be your bitch",' _Jack thought in annoyance before heading towards the stretcher carrying a serial killer more prolific than Bundy.

"Hello again, Officer Austin," Zsasz said in that creepy voice that you would want to hear if you walking down a dark alley. Jack ignored the crazed murderer and grabbed the other end of the stretcher and started pulling Zsasz along with Smith back towards the elevator.

As they walked, Jack noticed something odd. There was silver flask strapped to Frank's belt. He hadn't been at Arkham long, but he was sure drinking on the job was something the Warden and his incessant mayoral campaign would not tolerate.

"Hey, Frank, what's up with the flask?" he asked.

"It's just somethin' to take the edge off, Austin," he replied nonchalantly. "Working in Arkham takes a lot outta ya. Bourbon just makes it easier."

"And…the Warden's okay with that?" Jack asked unconvinced.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," Frank stated quickly and then turned to face his new colleague with a challenging gaze. "Right?"

Jack hesitated before nodding. He didn't want any trouble, he just wanted to do his job and get paid. Frank seemed satisfied with his reaction and together all three stepped into the elevator.

Being trapped in a metal box on a slow descent to the lower levels with a person responsible for- if the tally marks on his skin that were actually visible were any hint- at least one hundred murders was definitely disconcerting for Jack. Zsasz was creepy looking enough with his shaven head, the odd tattoo on the back of his head, his wiry frame, and his cold blue eyes that watched them as if they prey, but those marks just made him completely horrifying. Jack could only make out tally marks that weren't hidden beneath his inmate issue shorts, sleeve-like cuffs, and leather collar wrapped around his neck, but even then, it was frightening. At least one hundred murders were committed by this man for, as far as he could tell, to satisfy some deranged fantasy he built his entire world around. Jack had fought warlords who committed numerous atrocities that were not for the weak of heart to witness, but this one man had him on edge more than any of them and he doubted the shock baton he carried at his hip would be enough to stop him if he ever got his hands on a blade of any kind.

When the elevator had finally reached the ground floor, he let out a sigh of relief and helped Officer Smith continue to pull the patient to his interview while Boles led the way. They reached their destination after they passed through the holding cells. They pulled Zsasz into a small room with nothing more than a desk and two chairs. The doctor conducting the interview hadn't arrived yet so Frank ordered Smith and Jack to unstrap Zsasz and cuff him to the desk. After making sure the man was fully secure, Jack made his way outside to wait with Frank while Smith stayed in the room to watch over Zsasz.

"So is this supposed to go a certain way?" Jack asked Frank.

"What're you talking about, marine," the other man asked before reaching for his flask and taking a quick swig.

"Look, Frank, I know what you're doing and I'm just going to let you know right now, I'm not here to step on any toes, I'm just here to do my job. So you can stop with the 'tests'."

Frank only let out a laugh. "Good".

The sound of footsteps down the hall could be heard and both men turned their heads to see the doctor that would be conducting the session. To Jack's surprise, it was the same doctor who gave him his physical on his first day, Dr. Cassidy.

"Officer Boles," she greeted before turning her gaze to Jack with a friendly smile. "Still here I see."

"Surprised?" the former marine replied with a friendly smile of his own.

"A little maybe," she said before looking to her clipboard. "So is the patient ready?"

"He's inside," Boles answered.

"Victor Zsasz," Cassidy read of the name on the patient form clipped to clipboard.

"Have you actually done an interview with this patient before, doctor?" Jack asked curiously.

"No, this will be my first interview with him," she replied. "You did check him for weapons right?"

At least she was aware of his reputation.

"I took care of that back at the Penitentiary," Boles boasted.

"Are you sure? He always has one more on him somewhere," Jack commented.

"Yeah, Austin, I'm sure," Frank replied irately.

Jack rolled his eyes inwardly. Apparently he was making Frank look bad.

"Well anyway, let's get this started," Cassidy interjected. The redhead pulled out a tape recorder and pressed the button before speaking into the device. "Tape patient evaluation one. Patient name is Victor Zsasz, diagnosed clinically insane after the murder of at least twenty women in the Gotham area."

Taking that as his cue, Jack opened the door and allowed Dr. Cassidy entrance into the room. The woman stepped inside and set the recorder down on the table before taking a seat herself.

"Hello Vi-

"Wait!" Jack cut her off before rounding the table towards Zsasz.

"Officer Austin, I'm trying to conduct a session!" Cassidy said in annoyance.

"What the hell are you doing Austin?" Boles demanded.

Jack ignored them and stared Zsasz down. The deranged psycho only stared back with a small grin.

"Open your mouth," Jack ordered.

"Hmm?" Zsasz hummed innocently.

"Open your mouth," Jack ordered again this time much slower and in a threatening tone as his hand hovered over his shock baton.

Zsasz's grin widened some before he complied.

"Smith, if he bites me, knock him out," the former marine instructed, receiving a nod of confirmation from the other guard in return while Dr. Cassidy and Boles watched in confusion.

Jack took hold of Victor's jaw with one hand and moved the other towards the patient's mouth. He stuck two fingers inside and carefully reached for what he was looking for. He slowly pulled his fingers back out and showed the doctor what Victor had been hiding. In his hands was a small razor blade that Zsasz had been cheeking the entire time.

"Like I said: there's always one more," he said to Frank before pocketing the razor.

Frank looked at Jack with hidden envy. The marine had one-upped him in front of the Sarah Cassidy and another guard. Austin had said he was just there to do a job, but that wouldn't stop the senior Arkham guard from keeping an eye on him. There was only room for one top dog at Arkham.

"Sorry about that doctor, but are orders are to make sure this patient is near any blade of any kind," Jack said apologetically.

"It's…alright, Officer," she said after snapping out of her stunned silence. She was impressed he had caught something so subtle despite being at the Asylum only a week.

She cleared her throat and started again.

"Hello Victor, I'm Dr. Cassidy," she began gaining the attention of the scarred killer. "Since this our first session, let's spend some time getting to know each other."

"I don't need to know you, Miss Cassidy. Everything is meaningless," Victor replied as a matter-of-factly.

"Don't you think that's a very negative outlook on life, Victor?" Sarah asked civilly, appearing undeterred by his response.

"You've no doubt read my file."

"Yes…yes I have," Sarah replied with a somewhat perturbed expression as she recalled all the gory details of the man in front of her. "It says that you come from a wealthy family. That your parents died. How you lost all the money gambling."

"And none of it matters," Zsasz stated.

"Why do you keep saying that, Victor?"

"Because the only thing that does matter is the mark. Have you seen my work, Miss Cassidy?" the crazed man asked as he eyed Sarah with that predator-like gaze of his.

"If you're referring to the marks on your…" Sarah said trying to remain calm and collected under the man's stare.

"Of course I mean my tally marks. And I have a space for yours. Do you want to see where?" Zsasz asked as a wide grin slowly spread across his face.

Jack watched as Sarah's expression became horrified for the briefest moment. This man had her pegged as another victim the moment she walked into the room. No doubt she thought her very own mark being cut into his flesh while her bod lied cold and lifeless like all the other women he murdered.

She reached for the tape recorder and pushed the record button again, stopping the recording.

"I think that will do for now," she said with a forced calmness. "Let's continue this during our next session on Sunday. You may take the patient back now," she said before quickly leaving the room.

Jack looked at Zsasz to see that he had a satisfied smile on his face.

"Alright, freak, it's back to the Penitentiary for you!" Frank growled as he undid Zsasz cuffs rather aggressively.

Jack would've helped, but he felt he needed to make sure Dr. Cassidy was alright. Hopefully she hadn't gotten too far. He slipped out of the room and found her pacing the hall outside appearing to be taking several deep calming breaths.

"Hey, you alright?" he asked with genuine concern.

She gasped in surprise before composing herself.

"I'm fine," she answered quickly. "I just…I wasn't expecting that. I had heard about what he has done. I've seen the file…but I didn't think for a second that it would turn out like that. Did you see the way he looked at me?"

"I did. It's the same way he looks at almost everyone," Jack answered. "I'm sure he's got a place for me somewhere too."

"I'm just concerned because the file says he mostly targets women."

"Well, Doctor, there's always going to be guards in the room. You don't have much to worry about," Jack said trying to calm her.

"He managed to sneak a razor into the interview room," she countered.

She had him there. Even if the razor was no bigger than his pinky, in Zsasz's hands it was a good as a sword. He could have gotten at least one of them with it.

"Well, you could always request a different patient, I'm sure they'd give him another doctor."

"Oh, but that would go against the Warden's campaign to 'cure Gotham's crime'," she mocked bitterly.

"Well, then just-"

"Austin, take razor boy back to his cell!" Boles ordered as he stepped out of the room.

Jack scowled before turning around and facing the senior Arkham guard.

"Only because you asked so nicely, Frank," he said evenly before helping Smith cart out Zsasz.

He looked back and saw that Frank wasn't following them. Instead, he was speaking to Dr. Cassidy. He had some smarmy smirk on his face and she had a rather uncomfortable smile on hers. Jack may have been wrong, but it looked like he was trying to make a move on her. It certainly would explain why he was the one staying behind not doing his job while he carried a murdering psychopath back to the Penitentiary.

"Don't worry about," Smith said having noticed Jacks annoyed face. "After a while you just get used to it."

"You just _**let**_ him tell you what to do?" Jack asked incredulously.

"Better we do it than him," Smith with a shrug.

"What do you mean?" Jack didn't miss how Smith's face turned uncomfortable for a second.

"Look, I don't wanna be "that guy", but for all Frank's talk about being the next head of security, he's probably the worst guard at Arkham. You remember how he said he searched Zsasz for weapons before we brought him here?"

Jack nodded.

"He checked from behind the bars of Zsasz's cell."

"What? Why?"

To not even give the patient of Zsasz's caliber a thorough check for weapons was not only irresponsible, it was a death wish. The man hid a razor in his mouth for God's sake! Yet, Frank was willing to bypass procedure? What could be his reasoning?

"He found out that Dr. Cassidy was going to be leading the interview," Smith answered. "Frank's been after her for months."

"Are you serious?" Jack asked with disgust.

"Like I said, Austin, I'm not trying to be "that guy", but watch yourself around Boles. He ain't the kind of guy you trust."

Jack tried to process how someone could work in such a dangerous place and only look out for themselves. Arkham Asylum housed some of the most dangerous criminals known to man along with some other minor, yet still dangerous, inmates. Yet despite that, one man was willing to put his fellow guards and the rest of the staff at risk to sooth his own ego. Jack had no idea what had deluded Frank into thinking he would become the next head of security, but he would not stand by and let anyone put him or the others at risk.

'_Maybe I'll have to step on some toes after all…'_ he thought to himself.

* * *

**Well there you have it. Let me know how I did with Killer Croc's patient interview. I'm trying to refrain from using the interviews from the game, but in Zsasz's case, it may be unavoidable. I will tell you this, just to keep you interested, I do plan on having Jack meet Scarecrow and the Joker at some point, maybe even a few extras from Batman's rogue gallery ;)**


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